An heirloom that’s not, worth, a whole lot, but with, a ton of, sentimental values, attached, translated…
There’s a thick nylon, dark blue colored, Asian-style old coat inside my closet, this coat is, three sizes, bigger than what I normally wear, the color and style, was of the elderly bunch, the material isn’t that good either, too hot in the summers, not warm enough in the winters. But, none of my other, better looking, better fitted clothes, can, measure up to this blue coat.
This is a special coat, the most meaningful article of clothing I ever own. Because it’s an heirloom of sorts from my grandmother.
Eighteen years ago when she died, she’d not left anything valuable. What remained of her life were, the items of her daily life. And all of us, offspring, didn’t fight over it all, whoever wants something to remember her by, take it, and the rest, was left for my mother, who’s, the eldest daughter-in-law, to do what she will with them, she’d donated all the pieces she could to the charities, and, threw out what she couldn’t. And I was, able to keep, this blue coat my grandmother wore often when she was living.
illustration from UDN.com
And now, whenever the weather’s fitting, I’d, loved putting this, blue coat on, it’d felt, that my grandmother’s, still, with me, that through the movements of me, a granddaughter who has a-quarter of her blood, carrying on, with life, like, she’s, still, living. I’d felt that feeling, like how those past moments I’d shared with her, isn’t, completely, gone away with the years.
Sometimes, when I put on the blue coat, I’d, recalled my grandmother’s, mannerism. Like every month when my period came, I’d ached until I couldn’t, stand up straight, and I’d seen my grandmother’s face, with smiles, and wrinkles, whispering gently, and playfully to me, “be strong!”, then, I wouldn’t, hurt as much anymore. Or as my back ached from working in the vegetable gardens, I’d turned my head, saw my grandmother who couldn’t, squat down anymore, with her cane, using her stiffened fingers, to pull the weeds away from the tomatoes she’d, planted, and I’d felt, motivated.
Sometimes, as I put that blue coat on, I’d felt that grandma could, see me now, how my life is. And, as my husband saw me in my grandmother’s, blue coat, he’d always, laughed, because he thought I looked, funny in it, like I’m an elder, from the eighties. At this time, I’d recalled how my grandmother kept fearing that I won’t get married, but now, you see, grandma? I have a good man who loves me, or as I’m, baking the banana cake in the kitchens, I’d thought, grandma who loved sweets, she will have an appetite, if she smelled the sweet scents then?
Those past moments shared with my grandmother, still clear in my mind, and, it seemed, that my relationships with her, is still, ongoing. In my mind, those years, I’d spent with grandma, are parallel to the years I’m living now, existing, side by side.
Actually, it doesn’t matter if I have this coat, grandma is still, close to me at heart. But, as I put this coat on, felt the thick linings, it’s, as if, I’m back into my grandmother’s arms, playing coy, and I can, smell that scent of the sandal wood on her too, patting her on her big hands, feeling that sort of a, stable kind of, warmth and support.
And so, this, is how close you were with your grandmother, because you were close as you were a young child, the love lasted, until she’s, gone, and, you keep her in your memories, with that coat you inherited, from the items she’d, left behind after she’d, died.